


Equilibrium

by IndathreneBlue



Category: The Last Ship (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-26
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-17 11:52:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8142790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndathreneBlue/pseuds/IndathreneBlue
Summary: Late night confessions between Tom and Sasha lead to actions both familiar and uncertain.





	1. Chapter 1

Sasha jerked awake, heart pounding. After a few shaky breaths she closed her eyes and turned onto her back. It was just a nightmare, she told herself. Rolling over, she reached for her husband, only to find the bed empty.

Staring at the ceiling, the remaining cobwebs quickly dissipated. Of course, it was empty. She rolled out of bed, threw on a pair of pants, and headed for the mess hall.

###

Tom spotted her out of the corner of his eye on his way past the mess hall. She always caught his attention, even at three in the morning when he was bone tired. Changing course, he walked in and approached her table in the corner.

"Care for some company?"

"It depends on the company," she replied, giving him a half smile. Taking that as a yes, Tom sat down as she sipped from the mug in front of her.

"Cocoa or tea?" he asked.

She arched an eyebrow. "Why?"

"If it's tea you're up on purpose. Cocoa means something's bothering you."

Sasha sighed. "Cocoa. Sometimes I don't like that you know me that well."

"Likewise," he said, waiting for her to continue.

Sasha opened her mouth, then closed it, hesitant to bring up something that would hit close to home for him. But he never hid the truth from her and expected the same in return. Not always getting it was one of the reasons things didn't work out before. She'd never lied to him, but that wasn't the same thing.

"Sometimes I wake up confused why my bed's empty. Or why I'm on a ship." She picked up her mug, drinking slowly from it. "It only lasts for a few seconds before it comes back, but when it does it can be…overwhelming."

Sasha looked up to see Tom's eyes unfocused, staring at the wall behind her. His voice was rough when he spoke.

"I dreamed about Darien a couple weeks ago. We were at my father's cabin. She'd gone for a hike with the kids while I stayed behind to catch up on some reading. After I finished my book I sat on the porch, waiting for them to come back." His eyes shifted back to hers. "But then I woke up." He paused for a moment, letting the memory and emotions dissipate. "It's less frequent now, but it still happens. And each time I get angry at having to go through that loss again."

"So what do you do? I'm guessing it's not cocoa," Sasha asked quietly.

Tom smiled half-heartedly. "No. I try and force myself to go back to sleep. I can't afford to miss any more than I already do."

"And if that doesn't work?"

"I go find something to hit."

Sasha laughed. "Maybe I'll do that next time." Reaching across the table, she took his hand and squeezed it softly. "Go to sleep. Like you said, you don't get enough of it. I'll be fine."

"So will I," he replied, undeterred.

"Tom…"

Only his name, but in a tone he would recognize; the one that brooked no argument. After a few moments, he nodded.

"Come find me if you need me," he said.

In the past he wouldn't have offered, knowing she'd push through it on her own, as would he. But things were different now. What passed for normal was far more stressful. Leaning on someone from time to time was a necessity, not an option.

"I will," she said sincerely.

Satisfied, he got to his feet and headed for the door. He could't help one last glance before exiting. She was staring at her cocoa, lost in thought again, but appearing less troubled than before.

Navigating the corridors, Tom tried to quiet his thoughts. Their conversation was unexpected; he'd been unprepared emotionally. It hurt…but it had also helped. Sasha was one of the few people he could share his thoughts with unfiltered. Talking about Darien, and knowing Sasha was going through the same thing, it made it less oppressive.

That being said, sleep wasn't going to come easily. Bypassing his quarters, he headed to the gym. He needed to find something to hit.


	2. Chapter 2

Tom blinked his eyes rapidly. Running his hand across his face, it came away with a sheen of sweat. He swung his feet over the edge of his bed, took a few deep breaths, and stared at the floor beneath him.

Once his heart slowed to normal, he glanced at the clock. 4 am. The worst time to wake up. Stuck with slipping into a restless sleep or getting up and being wiped out by the end of the day.

Sighing, he flicked the light on and got dressed.

###

He paused after stepping onto the deck. Apparently he wasn't the only one up early.

"Good morning."

She jumped, her hand moving towards her hip for a weapon that wasn't there. Tom raised his hands in apology.

"Sorry, I thought you heard me approach."

"I should have," she remarked absently before leaning forward, resting her forearms on the railing. He mimicked her position, their shoulders close but not quite touching.

"What has you up so early?" he asked.

"Nightmare. Couldn't fall back asleep." Her eyes drifted over the dark waters. "You?"

"Some uncomfortable dreams."

"Is that what guys call nightmares?" she asked, amused.

He smiled. "I suppose."

They said nothing for several minutes, both searching for equilibrium. Sasha broke the silence first.

"What was yours about?" she asked quietly.

"An old mission," he said. "We'd gotten bad intel. Instead of being outgunned two-to-one it was closer to five-to-one. I lost two-thirds of my team."

Sasha looked at him pointedly. "You've been outnumbered and lost men before. That's not what's bothering you about it."

Tom smirked. Sasha never pulled her punches, even with him. He considered her question for a few moments before answering.

"I didn't trust myself. It felt off, but I was assured multiple times the intel was solid."

Sasha tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. She didn't mention that the intel probably was solid at the time it was given; situations can change rapidly. But that's not what he'd want to hear at the moment. Another thought occurred to her, though.

"How long ago was this?" she asked.

Tom thought back. "About six years ago."

"Was that the last time you ignored your instincts?"

"Yes," he answered, without hesitation.

"Then it's a good thing it happened." He stared at her, not sure where she was going with this. She gave him a small smile.

"It made an impression on you. A strong one. And from what I understand, trusting your instincts is the sole reason this ship survived and brought everyone the cure."

Tom took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, letting go of the tension he'd had since he'd jolted awake. He missed this from Sasha - her unerring ability to see the larger picture at play. It was why she was good at her job. And good with him.

Running a hand through his hair, he let the remnants of his dream fade away. "What about you?" he asked. "What was your nightmare about?"

Sasha sighed. He wasn't going to let her off easy.

"It was similar to yours," she said wryly. "A mission marred by shoddy intel." She took a deep breath before continuing. Sometimes saying things out loud helped. Sometimes it just hurt more.

"The building was supposed to be abandoned, but apparently their militia had 'recruited' recently. Most of the guards were barely in their teens. I ended up in a fight with a boy about fourteen years old. Fifteen if I want to make myself feel better." She looked down at her hands, idly scraping at a nail. "He was on top of me when I slit his throat. I watched the life bleed out of him. Felt the moment when his weight became dead and I had to roll him off of me."

Tom remained silent. He'd done things, too. Up close and personal, like this. Where you couldn't hide from the reality. Nothing he could say would be adequate.

"The thing is, I can't blame the intel. Knowing the actual scenario, we still would have proceeded and I'd have acted the same way. But it's hard not to dislike yourself when you know you can choose to be so brutal."

Sasha rarely allowed herself to appear vulnerable. To see her turmoil written so clearly on her face was significant. But there were crewman on deck and he was the CNO. All he could do was grasp her hand and interlock their fingers, squeezing gently.

"Dislike the action, Sasha, not yourself. Scenarios like that keep your humanity in check," he said quietly. "Feeling that, remembering that, prevents you from going numb. It makes you think long and hard about decisions and the consequences to all parties involved. And that's the only way for both sides to hope to come to any sort of understanding in the future. Through empathy."

Sasha nodded, his words helping her regain her composure. She squeezed his hand once before letting go to turn around, leaning back against the railing.

"Are we ever going to have normal conversations again?" she asked, smiling. She needed to shift focus to something less serious.

"Like about sports or movies?" he asked. He bumped her shoulder lightly, taking the hint. "I don't recall us ever doing normal conversations, Sasha."

"Okay, not normal," she conceded, "but less somber."

Tom looked up, drawing attention to the stars and darkness above them. "It would help if we spoke at times other than the middle of the night."

She almost quipped, 'But it's so romantic'. She held back, though. He might not want to go there yet, even in jest. "True," she replied instead.

"Then let's change that. Join me for lunch later," he said.

And then again…maybe he was ready to go there. Or maybe it was just lunch. She was good at reading between the lines, but those lines seemed to shift rather frequently these days.

"Okay," she replied.

"Okay? Don't you mean, 'Aye, aye?'"

Sasha glared at him. "You're never going to let go of that are you?"

"Not anytime soon, no," he said.

"Fine," Sasha huffed. "But expect payback, Tom."

He retreated ten paces, drawing a curious look from her.

"Aye, aye," he replied, before beating a hasty retreat. He really did enjoy pushing her buttons at times.


	3. Chapter 3

Sasha glanced at her watch. She was going to be late if she didn't leave now. Reluctantly she put down the maps. She momentarily thought to bring them with her, but quickly pushed it out of her mind. It was one thing to talk about their work, quite another to bring it along. She didn't want it to intrude.

She smiled to the crewman she passed as she navigated down the corridors, looking forward to seeing him. Somehow they'd managed to have lunch, sometimes dinner, every few days over the past several weeks. Neither made too much light of it, not wanting to give it a name, but it felt a lot like dating. Very slow moving dating, in certain respects, but that was to be expected. While they'd both sufficiently mourned their spouses, that didn't mean their wasn't a lot of baggage being carried around.

When she reached his quarters she paused before knocking, giving her pulse a moment to slow down; telling herself it was from the brisk walk, knowing it wasn't.

###

He'd just finished clearing a space off the table when he heard her knock. "Come in," he said, trying not to smile too much at her arrival. He distracted himself with moving the plates over as she sat down.

Sasha couldn't suppress the grin she felt upon seeing their meal. "Either the chef and I have similar tastes or someone's been making requests."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said evenly.

"Mm-hm. You are good at many things, Tom Chandler, but acting innocent isn't one of them."

As Tom sat down, he stole a glance at her. This was new with Sasha. She was more playful than she ever used to be with him. It was surprising at first, what with the daily stress being so much higher, but maybe that was what brought it out. Regardless, he liked it.

"Any progress on those communications?"

"Yes and no," she answered, frustrated. "I've translated them, but there's several layers of encryption. Although, that's a good sign. At least we know whatever it is they're talking about is important."

"Let's hope so. It would disappointing to find out they were exchanging love letters."

"Disappointing, but probably quite entertaining," she said with a smirk. "And not a bad idea for us."

Tom's eyebrows raised. "You want us to start writing love letters to each other?"

Sasha rolled her eyes. "To transmit love letters and let them waste their time decrypting them. Although, not being able to see their expressions when they decipher them kind of takes the fun out of it."

"I don't now. I think seeing you try to write one would be rather entertaining."

"Are you suggesting I'm not romantic, Tom?"

"No. I'm stating it as a fact," he teased.

Sasha narrowed her eyes. "Is that a challenge?"

Tom started to grin. This was too good to pass up. He retrieved a couple of pens and some paper, sliding half across the table to her.

Sasha exchanged her spoon for the pen, lifting her eyebrow as she asked, "Is there a time limit?"

"Twenty minutes. Or will you need longer than that?" he asked, baiting her.

"No, that's fine," she replied calmly. Her confidence worried him for a moment, until he remembered she was naval intelligence - part of her job entailed knowing how to bluff.

Tom wasted no time, laying two sheets side-by-side - one for an outline, the other for the letter itself. He started with simple adjectives: smart, passionate, talented, loyal, brave. Frowning, he crossed out loyal. While true, it wasn't exactly a term of endearment.

Next, more specific traits: her willingness to challenge him without doubting him, her quieter side that most people don't get to see or share in, her unabashed love of classic cartoons.

And then, some moments: lying on the couch with her falling asleep in his arms, midnight walks in the summer, the drive-in (with neither of them caring much about the movies themselves).

He kept going until he filled the page, rewording a few things here and there, then started stringing it together. After transcribing it onto the second sheet, he glanced at his watch. Four minutes left. Sasha was already done, her letter folded neatly in front of her.

"You first?" Tom asked.

"Sure." She slid her letter across to him smoothly, but her eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness as he unfolded it and began reading.

_You're right Tom, Sasha Cooper is not a romantic. To love deeply, she allows. To let the other person know through actions and words…that's different. That would mean being vulnerable, being exposed. Inviting pain. But pain is the same whether it's physical or emotional. I would never avoid physical pain if it meant completing a mission, because the payoff would be worth it. And you are worth it, Tom Chandler._

_Worth smiling at for no reason. Worth setting an argument aside for. Worth waking up to in the morning._

_Our timing was off before…or maybe I wasn't ready. I certainly wasn't patient enough, and in that respect I have changed. I can wait. That doesn't mean when we're talking I don't think I'd rather be kissing you instead - because I do think that. Quite frequently, in fact. What it means is that I want to get it right this time - not squander a second chance neither of us expected, but which I'm thankful to have. So, for once, I will let you set the pace, Tom. I will follow your lead. And eventually, you can discover just how romantic I can be._

Tom got to his feet and walked around the table. Once he was in front of her, he extended his hand down towards her. She stared at it quizzically for a moment, then grasped it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

Tom could still see the bit of uncertainty in her eyes, which was no doubt mirrored in his own. He'd been letting this thing between them develop slowly, telling himself he was in no rush, but in reality he was still repairing the damage of losing Darien. That's why he'd stalled with Rachel - and it had cost him.

The reality was, he would never fully get over Darien. His heart would always have a space for her, as it did for Sasha. It was time to accept that and embrace what was in front of him, without reservations.

Tom leaned in, intentions clear, but before their lips touched Sasha pulled back, clearly caught off guard.

"Tom, there was no 't' after the word 'can' when I talked about waiting."

"I know," he replied, almost mischievously.

"Then, what…"

"I'm adjusting the pace."

He pulled her in close again. And again she halted him, this time with a hand pressed softly to his chest.

"Are you sure?"she asked.

"Yes," he said, lifting her hand and placing it at the back of his neck. Needing no further assurance, Sasha pulled Tom towards her, finally allowing their lips to meet. Having both committed to this path, it didn't take long for the kiss to turn heated.

Blindly they navigated their way towards the bed. She fell backwards, pulling Tom down with her, but when they hit the mattress she became keenly aware of her actions. Her hands momentarily slowed. Tom noticed immediately. He leaned back, peering into her eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "And don't say 'nothing'."

Sasha looked away. This was not something she wanted to discuss. She'd rather put it aside and work through it on her own. She opened her mouth to say as much, but stopped. She'd committed to being more honest with him. That didn't mean only when it was easy or necessary.

Keeping her eyes fixed on the ceiling, she confessed, "This is the first time since-"

She didn't continue, not wanting to say her husband's name aloud - not wanting to bring her past into the present.

"For me, as well," she heard him say.

The brush of his fingers along her cheek brought her attention back to him.

"Did you want to stop?"

She half smiled at him. "Those memories were closer to the surface than I'd realized. It caught me off guard, but, no, I don't want to stop." After a moment she asked, "Do you?"

Leaning down he kissed her neck, then behind her ear. He knew the first time was going to be like this. Emotionally charged. They'd have to get past it at some point if they wanted their relationship to continue. And he did.

"No," he replied. "I don't want to stop."

Tom woke to an unfamiliar sound - someone getting dressed. He reached out in the darkened room, grasping at her hand.

"You don't have to go."

She grinned. "Yes, I do. Unless you want to deal with a lot of raised eyebrows at me leaving your room in the morning."

"You're not a member of this crew."

"Close enough," she said, pulling her shirt over her head. "It's easier if I go." She ran her hands through her hair, trying to get rid of some of the tangles.

"Not really," he said. "I don't plan on hiding this."

"You don't want to broadcast it either, though."

"Hm. You never know," he teased, abruptly pulling her down onto the bed beside him. "Maybe I'll make a ship wide announcement tomorrow."

"Is that right?" Her eyes danced with mirth. "Attention all hands, the CNO got laid last night."

Tom barked out a laugh. "I'm guessing that might thwart any repeat performances."

"Performances? Really?" Sasha raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Are you implying that I'm a-"

Tom silenced her with a kiss. Always a good strategy when it came to their relationship.

He kept hold of her hand as she got to her feet. Unwilling to relinquish his time with her just yet, he walked her to the door.

"So when do I get to read your letter?" she asked.

"Dinner tomorrow?

"We usually do lunch on Fridays."

"I don't want to be rushed," he said, kissing her slowly.

"Good point."

Tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his expression went serious.

"We're each still dealing with fallout. Probably always will be in some respects. It doesn't stop me from being grateful we got another chance at us. Obviously I sped things up tonight, but we can slow back down if we need to. Whatever works. As long as, in the end, it does work."

Sasha smiled softly and leaned against him, quietly conveying her agreement. Eventually she pulled back, kissed his chest once and reached for the door behind her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she said.

"Yes," he responded, then couldn't resist adding, "right after I make that ship wide announcement."


End file.
